Heroes and Villains
by Eruvanda
Summary: Most Avengers fics involve someone running into Loki, hating him, and falling in love. Not this one, not really. Ella Nithson isn't your average Midgardian. Besides her tendency to not use names, she is a traitor, a liar, and just not very Midgardian. She is both ally and enemy to Earth's favorite heroes and to Loki. And it's all Baldr's fault.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just to clarify, this story was originally meant not to be fanfiction, just as a sort of formula for anyone to plug in characters, therefore I avoid names, at least from Ella's perspective. I have the 'formula' version on a different site. Message me if you're interested. But for now:**

**Famous Hero- Iron Man**

**Veteran- Captain America**

**Villain- Loki**

**Also, I realize this chapter is similar to another fanfiction. Bear with me.**

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Ella heard the screaming of the crowds as they chanted the name of their hero. Their Famous Hero. The celebrity. They loved him, but he was nothing but an attraction- an introduction before the real business of the press conference. The sound of the crowd faded, cut by the walls of backstage, as she slipped through the side door and ducked around dusty poles and loose cables. She found the secluded section of the backstage that was in better repair, set apart for the Famous Hero and his expensive tastes. She watched him pour an amber alcohol into a sparkling glass; several hundred a bottle, she guessed. She cleared her throat to let him know she was there.

The Famous Hero held up a finger to stop Ella's approach as he took a drink. "If you're a fan," he said between constant sips, "Kudos for trying this hard, but autographs later. If you're here on business, please see my assistant. If you're a reporter-" She cut him off.

"I'm not a fan or a businesswoman. Now, I am a reporter, but that's not why I'm here."

"What, then?"

"The one you're hunting is here, in the crowd," she said, taking as step forward.

"Honey, I hunt a lot of things- game, predators, birds, rodents. You'd better be more specific. Give me a name."

She shook her head slightly. "The only name I use is my own. I mean the one that you're all hunting for. All you heroes."

The Famous Hero choked on his drink. He hissed the Villain's name and set down his glass. He proceeded to explain to her that this Villain wouldn't be stupid enough to show up here, unless in disguise.

"And he's a master of disguise," Ella agreed with a grin. "I'm well aware that he is no fool. Send one of your partners to watch where I go in the crowd. I'll point him out to you."

"How?" The Famous Hero said with a sniff. "If you just stick a finger at him, he'll run."

"With a kiss."

Ella didn't wait for his reply or reaction. She traced her steps back to the side door and cracked it open. She slipped into the elated crowd, careful not to make a noticeable disturbance in the sea of fans, businessmen, and reporters. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a tall man watching her. One of the Famous Hero's partners. This one had seen too much action. Had been in the hero business too long. Nothing now but a fighting Veteran. Ella saw him weave through the crowds in much the same way she was, moving closer to her. Good.

Finally Ella stepped into the vacant space next to the Villain. He glanced sideways with a frown.

"I thought I told you to stay out of sight." She inwardly glared at the tone of his voice. Chiding. Masterful. Like a teacher speaking to an insolent child.

"I got bored," she said plainly.

"You got bored?"  
no  
"I got bored." Ella didn't waste any more time, seeing that the Veteran was close. She pulled the Villain's dark head down towards her own and kissed him. He pulled away, but she could sense a bit of reluctance.

"What was that?" He asked with a grin.

"I believe it's called a kiss of death," she replied quietly. The Villain had no time to react before the cold bite of the Veteran's weapon was held against his head. He didn't react, but instead his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "When did you become a traitor, Ella?"

She stepped closer again, her face inches from his. She gave her reply in a low voice. "Everybody wants to the rule something."

The Villain slipped one of his hands from the Veteran's grasp for one last action before he was unable. A blast of bright blue light shot from his hand. The burst of power collided with her traitorous lips, snapping her head back. She crumpled, caught by the Famous Hero who'd arrived just in time. Her vision turned painfully white, burning her eyes, and then black as she fell into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So there's an awkard glitch that made this chapter not show up. I think I've fixed it, though**

**Marvel Characters belong to Marvel. Ella belongs to me**

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Ella awoke with a scream that she quickly muffled with a hand. She closed her eyes, trying to expel the very familiar nightmare. The nightmare that shouldn't be returning. Slowly the image faded and she moved to stand. A wave of nausea swept over her as she finally noticed the excruciating throbbing in her head. She swayed, but was steadied by the third hero. The Scientist, if she'd done her homework right. The hero that wasn't meant to be. He sat her back down on what she now knew was a couch.

"Try not to move," he said in a low voice. "I'm not a doctor or anything, but I can say you've had a concussion. Can you see properly?"

She nodded once, slowly, taking in the painful feeling of a head injury. It was strange, like having a weight attached to the skull that pulled whenever a movement was made. She blinked and massaged her head slowly as the Scientist started to list off some questions. He was interrupted by an impatient voice.

"Enough. I want to know who she is and what her connections are." Ella looked up carefully to see the rest of the team arriving. Great. From one interrogation to another. They were joined by a man and a woman. The woman was muscled, tall, and beautiful, but with anger radiating off of her. The Fighter who's only purpose was to prove women were worth something, not that the woman knew that, of course. The propaganda she created sickened Ella. It was she that demanded to know who Ella was. The man she knew instantly. The whole root of her problem. He was the Captain. Not a hero, with no magic tricks or super strength. Nothing more than a cunning mind, good training, and sound judgement.

"My name is Ella Nithson. I'm a journalist. Your adversary told me that he was on the run from the mob. Having the occupation that I do, I figured that it would make an interesting story, especially when I couldn't place his accent. And I'm very good at accents. So I let him camp out in my house for a bit."

"You harbored an international criminal because you were curious? Brilliant," mocked the Fighter. She missed the look that would have silenced a lion. The Veteran wasn't convinced.

"But that's not all, is it? You can't have known him for more than two or three weeks. You seemed awfully friendly. There's more to this story," he prodded. The Famous Hero snorted with a smirk. Ella had only begun forming a reply when the final player in her game entered the room. Tall, huge, and well armed. The Warrior That Wasn't From Earth.

"It...was the best way to throw him off guard," she said without taking her eyes off of the Warrior. The Veteran grunted, still not convinced.

"So, what exactly did he do to me? Why was I unconscious?" she asked slowly. It was the Famous Hero that answered.

"He shot a sort of blue light at you, which hit you square in the face. It hovered around your head for a moment before vanishing."  
e  
Ella stood, now ignoring the throb in her head, and took a tentative step towards the Famous Hero. "Blue light? Did...did it happen to gather around my eyes by any chance?"

He pulled a face, thinking. "Possibly. Could have been your nose, though. But now that I think about it, yes."

Ella stared at her hands briefly, trying to convince herself that it was just spilled ink that caused the black stains on her fingertips. But she knew better.

"Bastard!" she hissed under her breath. "Take me to him."

"I don't think that that's such a-" interrupted the Captain.

"Take me to him NOW!" she screamed, fury radiating through her. The Veteran raised his eyebrows and spun on his booted heel, beckoning for her to follow. Ella walked close behind him, and overtook her guide as the large chamber came into view. A glass cage rested in the middle, with her target pacing around its sides. She stopped not a foot from the glass. The team of heroes gathered on the catwalk.

"What have you done to me?" Her voice was low, and sounded calm, but the anger was still apparent. The Villain smiled cheekily.

"A simple curse is all. Nothing more than you deserve, and nothing less."

"Why?"

"Because I don't take kindly to those who stab me in the back."

"You're the one that trusted a stranger. Me, who you know so little about."

He laughed.

"I know exactly who you are, Ella Nithson. You are a traitorous wretch that will suffer the consequences."

It was Ella's turn to laugh. She stepped closer to the glass, reaching out a hand to touch it lightly with her fingertips. "Funny, that's just what the Youngest Brother said, minus the 'traitorous wretch' part, of course."

Both the Villain and the Warrior reacted to the mention of their brother, though the first less so than the second.

"Who are you?" the Villain demanded, fixing his green eyes on her face and trying to recognize her. She move closer again, so close that her breath fogged the blue glass.

"I'll give you a hint," she said, her voice low, "Never let me go."

The Warrior struggled with his memory to bring up the idea of what it meant. The Villain, however, had no such problem. His expression varied between surprise and glee, finally settling on anger.

"What are you doing here, Eltrys?" He stepped back, but never did the malice of his stare waver. The Warrior flinched at the newly mentioned name, his hand straying towards his hammer.

"I've come to offer you a deal," she said simply. The Fighter stiffed, her gaze instantly suspicious. Ella's voice lowered so only the Villain could hear.

"I will help you fight Midgard's mightiest heroes, if you can get me back on Asgard, with a slate wiped clean."

"And if I in turn, betray you?" he replied, with a threat in his voice. Ella's eyes darkened.

"I will hurt you. I will hurt you like you've never known. There is a place where the light won't find you as your entire world comes crashing down. And if you betray me, that is exactly where you will go."

The Fighter would have no more of this conversation that she couldn't monitor. She stepped forward towards Ella as a slow grin spread across the Villain's face.

"And if you break my trust again, Eltrys called Nithe," the Villain promised, "I have to do nothing. I will simply let the curse run its course."

Ella felt it before it happened. There was a flickering around her, as if she was a glitching computer. Her appearance changed with the flicker, going from her Midgardian clothing to something more otherworldly. Her skinny jeans and heeled boots gave way to armor and a fine maroon cape. Her tight ponytail collapsed into a dark mass that lay across one shoulder, bound by a thin braid. A golden medallion hung from another braid on the other side. Her face was framed with thin iron that wrapped around her and jutted out with a sharp point at each cheek.

Fury washed over her as she felt her power waning, unable to maintain the Midgardian disguise. She slammed her arm against the glass, letting the disguise slip completely as she did. The Villain smiled at her.

"What beautiful eyes you have," he said with a smirk. Ella didn't need to see her reflection to know that her icy blue eyes had become completely black, blacker than her soul and the force that now cursed her. There was no iris, no pupil, nothing to be seen. She slowly sank to the floor as her legs grew weaker, leaning against the glass and staring at the Villain. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Ella looked at him almost pleadingly. But he knew it was just fear. Weakness, really.

"Would you still have done it if you had known who I am?" she asked quietly between gasps of heavy breathing. He ignored her question and bent down to whisper through the glass.

"I accept your offer."

Her sight faded, leaving only her voice and ears as she became like one of the many dead.

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**Another note: I realize that the description of her armor is confusing, and I tried to attach a link, but the site doesn't allow that. So message me if you want it. **

**Don't forget to review! All reviews will be read, replied to, and returned**


	3. Chapter 3

Thor's POV

"Why is she here, Loki? Why is Eltrys on Midgard?" Thor demanded, approaching the cage.

"How should I know?" he replied, extending his hands palm up. "I assumed she was still trapped on Vanaheim, which, I notice, you failed to do anything about."

Thor ignored the taunt and moved on to another question. "What did she want from you?"

"The same thing that everyone in all the Nine Realms want. The Nithe wants to go home." Loki leaned his shoulder against the walls of the cage and crossed his arms. "I assume she came to me and not you for one simple reason."

The blond warrior also crossed his arms, a patient look on his face. "What?"

"You've given no reason for her to trust you," he said simply.

"And yet there's every reason to not trust you."

Loki smiled. "Exactly."

There was a sharp clatter as Ella shakily rose from her position on the cold floor. She leaned heavily against the glass, still weak. She muttered darkly under her breath phrases that made no sense and snippets of both Asgardian and Midgardian songs. She slowly made her careful way down the few steps, but stumbled in her unknowing blindness, unaware of the world. She fell against Thor, who flinched but pulled a chair towards her nevertheless. She sat bent over, holding her head and doing her best to control her shuddering breaths. Thor frowned.

"Brother, you can't leave her like this. Not again."

"She brought it upon herself."

Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, moved from his position from the sidelines and knelt by Ella.

"Ella- I mean Eltrys," he said slowly, as if tasting the unfamiliar name. "Can you hear me?"

"Sometimes," came the whispered reply. She didn't look at him or make any suggestion that she acknowledged his presence. She simply stared forward, her blackened eyes reflecting the many lights that hung from the ceiling.

"What has Loki done to you? What is this 'curse'?"

"I'm trapped. Trapped in an oblivion of my own making," she said. She would say no more. Rogers stood and faced Thor.

"What does that mean, 'an oblivion of her own making'?"

Thor didn't answer immediately, trying to decide how to best explain it. He looked away from Loki and avoided the god's green gaze.

"She has told me that it's a method of shielding, so that she doesn't feel the curse. She loses herself in her mind while her soul is devoured by a force which my people have come to call the Blackness, for there is no other name for it."

Rogers considered this while Agent Romanov stepped forward. "She has told you? Past tense? But didn't it happen just yesterday?"

"It's not new to Asgard. It has plagued us for some thousand years, though most recently it attacked Eltrys and my other brother, Baldr, a few hundred years ago. Baldr has not recovered."

Ella made an odd choking sound and put a hand to her mouth. As she opened her lips, a black inky fluid flowed out, coating her fingers. She slid off of the chair and fell to the floor, black fluid making an ever growing pool around her. She lay as cold as death, though the shuddering cough and strangled sobs still came out.

"Loki, how do I help her?" Thor asked quietly finally looking at his brother. Loki raised a dark eyebrow

"Why should I tell you? How can she possibly deserve to breathe real air and to see real things?"

"Because no one deserves to die like that."

"Maybe she does."

"Loki, she was your friend!" Thor said, his deep voice rising.

"Was she? In my experience, friends do not betray friends."

"Oh, get over yourself," Stark interrupted. "In my experience brothers don't betray brothers, either. What does she need?"

The God of Mischief didn't answer.

"Loki, there was a time when nothing would stop you from protecting Eltrys. What has changed?" Thor demanded.

"Everything," he hissed. He was quiet for a moment, and then said one more thing:

"The Midgardians have a saying. 'The eyes are the windows to the soul'." He turned and walked to the rear of the cage and sat down to watch. Thor thought for a moment before acting.

"Blindfold her," he said quietly. Rogers pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and tied it around Ella's eyes. The shivering stopped immediately and she became still. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! Thanks for reading this far. If you think it's worth it for me to continue, please let me know via review or message!

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Ella sat up. Her eyes opened, but the world was still dark, still blind. There was a tightness around her that constricted her sight. She ripped the blindfold off and cast it to the floor bitterly. She was grateful that it was effective, but still anger coursed through her at the knowledge of who had recommended the blindfold. Only one would have possibly known that.

"You're awake," said a quiet voice. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and composed herself before turning to face the Scientist.

"That's an awfully cliche thing to say."

"Maybe, but I find that sometimes I need a little cliche around here. There's enough insanity that the expected is unexpected." He sighed.

"That was deep."

"Deep and cliche, that's me."

She cracked a smile.

"How long was I out?"

The Scientist checked his watch. It was a cheap one, but accurate and unassuming.

"Roughly 32 hours...no, 33."

Ella tapped her finger against the simple hospital bed. She took a quick look around the medical wing of the heroes's flying headquarters, but then put her surroundings into the back of her mind. It wasn't important.

"A day and a half," she said, half to herself. The Scientist shrugged.

"A little less than."

"Could have been worse."

"Certainty. You could have choked on all that fluid in your lungs, but fortunately we had a pump. For some reason. I really don't know why."

"I thought you said you weren't a doctor," she accused, the corners of her lips lifting.

"I may have exaggerated. I spent a lot of time in India helping people. Kept me safe."

"From the Monster?" she asked, her voice scratching against her throat painfully.

"From the monster," the Scientist confirmed. There was a hint of hesitation. Her smile lifted a little, but sadly.

"I have a monster, too, you know."

"Mmm..." He opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out some tools that shined and smelled like sterilized metal. Ella stared at the bright white of the walls and floor, taking in the blankness. She avoided looking at the occasional wounded soldiers that lay in beds nearby. But she couldn't ignore the blood. Crimson red against the stark hospital white. Draining away and staining things as the soldiers bled from wounds that she didn't know the cause of. She looked away and instead looked for the tell-tale blackness that should have marred the white in a more terrifying way than the red. But she saw only white around her. Her eyes were drawn to a too-green potted plant on a nearby table.

There was a sharp clatter as the Scientist found what he was looking for and pulled it out of the cabinet. A stethoscope. Ella shook her head.

"Don't bother."

"Why not?"

"You won't find anything."

"What makes you think that? You're breathing, you're alive, you're sitting up, so therefore, you have a heartbeat."

"But you see, I'm cursed. Everything I touch just...dies..." She reached out a finger to stroke one of the leaves of the plant. Green turned to brown as it crumbled away, dead. She drew back and wrapped her cold arms around her, trying to get warm. "Even myself."

"You can't be dead on the inside, Ella Nithson," he scoffed. She blinked, seized his hand and placed it against her wrist. He wrapped his hand around it and looked for the pulse. His eyebrows drew together in frustration as it didn't come. He tried her neck, and then heart.

"There's no heartbeat. How are you alive?"

"I am alive. I'm just marked for death, so why not start dying now?"

"That's awfully pessimistic."

"I'm never disappointed," she replied with a smile. "I suppose you want to know what exactly is going on?"

"I was filled in a little bit, but not enough to satisfy my curiosity."

"Alright. I'll start by saying that the Blackness is not a creature, it is a force of unknown power or origins. At the press conference, the Blackness did not enter me, when I was attacked; the blue light is simply a tag that is now latched onto my soul. The Blackness is of another dimension, and unable to see anything by itself. The tag lets it know when someone exists that it can attack. And when it attacks, it latches onto a soul and draws the energy and power from it and all the emotions it feels, especially love or anger, which is why...the Villain did his best to goad me and make me angry. Every time the Blackness attacks, only a fragment of it is actually present, so once it as had its fill, it drifts back into its own dimension, and I am sane again, like now, until another fragment finds me. When it does, my eyes will blacken and my lungs will fill with the inky liquid you probably saw. I'm not sure what it is, exactly, other than that the edges of the Blackness sometimes leak through to this world and end up in me," she explained, and then paused. "So that's everything."

"And what happens when your soul is completely...devoured?"

Ella stared at the dead plant next to her, silent for a moment. "I will live, but I will be nothing but a shell, devoid of the reality of life, which is emotion."

The Scientist looked solemn as he considered this carefully. "I have another question," he said, his voice grave, "Why don't you use names other than your own?"

"You are nothing without a name. Being something is not desirable if you are near me."

He frowned, confused."You use your own name. Or a form of it, at least."

"Only because I already exist. You are only a title; you are the Scientist. Titles are empty and much safer than names. The only other name I will use is that of Baldr, brother of the Warrior from the realm I come from. And that is because he already is known, his soul is in pieces, and he now lies dying in the royal palace."

The Scientist chuckled at the mention of her name for him, but grew serious as she spoke of Baldr.

"But you didn't use his name while talking to Loki."

"No, I didn't. I suppose I'm not used to names anymore."

"So your real name is Eltrys, then?"

"Yes, Eltrys, as I'm known in the other realm."

"But, Loki also called you 'the Nithe'. What does that mean?"

Ella tugged on her dark hair a few times before answering, as well as noticing that with the return of her strength, her Midgardian disguise had also come back.

"It's a word that was at one time used only to hurt me, but is now my name. It means a loss of honor. I have become a villain. That's what my own people call me. They believe it was I that broke Baldr's soul. The real Villain knows better, though. He is fully aware it was not me who brought it upon Baldr. It was his own fault, curse him."

The Scientist made a face, looking like he wanted to ask what she meant, but he refrained.  
"You're Asgardian, correct?"

"Indeed I am, just as much as the Warrior."

"Then why are you on earth?"

"I don't know, really. I was trapped for a long time in a different realm, locked away from the universe. One day, the bridge was opened to me, and I stepped into it and found myself here. I'm sure there's a reason."

There was a silence.

"Where is everyone? What happened when I was out?"

The Scientist hesitated before answering, trying to guess her reaction. "Uh...well...Loki's gone."

Ella certainly reacted. "Oh really?" she said, stiffening.

"Yes...the people who he's brainwashed came for him, including a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent who's now returned to us. But anyways, he's gone and almost took out this flying boat with him," he explained. Ella could have sworn that under his breath he added, "Partially my fault."

"And I suppose that the realm's mightiest heroes have gone after him? Then why are you here?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I have my reasons."

She didn't ask him to elaborate. "Where are they?"

"New York, I believe, or at least on their way."

Ella stood, shook out her hair, and pulled on her coat lying nearby.

"Take me there." 


	5. Chapter 5

Eltrys stared blankly at the wall, watching stones slowly crumble away from the damage caused by a melee between the Villain's army and one of the heroes. She forced the nausea down and concentrated on not going into shock. Her weakened state would offer no protection from the hunger of the Blackness, and she could only lie still and not die. The heroes wouldn't help her, likely, and certainly not the the Villain. She could almost hear his voice in her head, taunting her.

'I quite enjoyed watching you dance the traitor's dance. Now die like one.'

She briefly wondered how she'd arrived at such a crumbling state. She was stronger than the invading army. Stronger than the heroes, she thought. Stronger than the Villain, in some ways. She knew that. But instead she was here. Pathetic.

She saw herself arriving not far behind the Scientist, on a sputtering Midgardian motorcycle. The Warrior hadn't been happy to see her. Not at all. She remembered him dragging her to the side to argue.

"What are you doing on Midgard, Eltrys?"

"Your father banished me from all nine realms. Where exactly was I supposed to go?"

"There are worlds outside of Yggdrasil."

"None that matter. Besides, I don't agree with the terms of my exile, and therefore choose to ignore it."

Anger filled the Warrior's voice as he stepped closer, his very breath a threat. "You took an oath, Eltrys! An oath to protect the beauty of Asgard and her people. An oath you broke and tossed aside like it was nothing!"

"There is no beauty in Asgard!" she cried, pausing before her voice lowered to an angry whisper. "None that I can see. Therefore the oath is invalid."

The Warrior relaxed, his face pulling into a frown. "Eltrys, you've been poisoned against Asgard, against my father. Surely you realize that."

"Oh, but you can see it, too, your highness," she said, her voice a mockery. "If only you were to look over your shoulder to see what you know is true. The mighty Golden Realm is falling, and will die until a refreshing wave washes over its faded gold streets. There is nothing to fight for until its hero saves it."

"And I suppose you're that hero?"

Ella laughed, a strange grin spreading across her face. "Of course not. Why would I save that which I hate?"

"Then who is?"

"You."

Eltrys wondered what the Warrior would have done if he wasn't occupied with the invaders, who oddly enough, had avoided the heroes for one more conversation. A foolish conversation with foolish heroes. Eltrys laughed bitterly, but the action pulled on a wound and the laughter turned into a desperate choke.

"You want to fight with us? You? Aren't you an ally of Loki?" The Fighter scoffed, pausing to shoot an approaching invader that had strayed too far from the rest. Ella's mouth twitched upwards, but it wasn't a smile; it was disgust.

"Only on occasion. This is not one of those occasions."

"I don't trust you."

"Good. Keeps you on your toes."

"Are you saying I'm not alert at all times?"

"Possibly."

Before the Fighter could reply, the Veteran stepped in and pushed them apart.

"Ladies, there's no time for this. Ella- Eltrys. If you want to join us, fine. Just no funny business."

Ella actually smiled this time. "Of course not."

The Warrior covered up his noise of disbelief with a cough.

"Alright. You can't fight in that," the Veteran pointed out, gesturing to Ella's rather non-flexible clothing. He looked towards the Famous Hero. "Stark, do you have protective armor in your...tower?"

"Don't worry about it," interrupted Ella. The veteran turned back to see her in full otherworldly armor, though it was slightly tarnished from a long gap of use. The last idea of Ella Nithson faded, replaced by the commanding presence of Eltrys the Nithe. She drew a well-polished sword, unadorned other than a long scratch running down the blade. The Famous Hero made a face at it, unimpressed.

"A sword? Isn't that a little old fashioned for an invading alien army?"

Eltrys inspected the edge. "Don't worry. It'll suffice."

He pulled a genuinely concerned frown, not liking the high possibility of constantly needing to rescue the girl from invaders. But as he took a longer look at the sword, he seemed to grow more uncomfortable. It was strange, as if it didn't quite fit in the dimension they occupied.

"Okaaay...but don't expect me to-"

"It is an adequate weapon, Man of Iron. Do not concern yourself," the Warrior interrupted. Eltrys turned to thank him, but stopped when she saw the aggravated expression he wore. She wasn't a fool, and the Warrior looked ready to rip Eltrys to shreds. The gathered team dissolved as they saw targets they could bloody, leaving Eltrys and the Warrior alone in the blasted-out area.

"Do as Captain Rogers says. No mischief. One hint of betrayal and harm will come to you."

Eltrys scrunched up her nose. "I have a feeling you say that a lot."

The Warrior gave her one final stare to reaffirm his seriousness before rocketing into the clouds with a spin of his hammer.

Eltrys inhaled, breathing in the scent of destruction around her. Ash and smoke mixed with blasted concrete and the metallic scent of blood. The smell of war. And then she began to kill, bodies falling at her feet, wounds growing on her from the occasional miscalculation or lucky hit from the opposition. But she wasn't fighting, when she thought about it. Not until she realized that she wasn't battling to show she'd changed. She wasn't killing for her freedom. She didn't care about /freedom/; she would be content to fade away in an otherworldly cell for the remainder of her long life if she had to. As long as she could prove she wasn't meant to be there.

_That's what I want, _she decided, _to make them guilty._ Her thoughts grew blacker and angrier at the Warrior and his father. There was a kind of dark bloodlust rushing though her head. She ignored the Blackness creeping into her line of sight. And in her rage, she didn't hear the shouts of the Veteran until her blade screeched against his humming shield.

"ELTRYS!" he bellowed. Her vision cleared, though she didn't lower her weapon. The anger still beat within.

"Breathe, kid! You need to keep a cool head."

"I am calm, soldier."

"I have to disagree. I'm fairly certain you just killed the same Chitauri three times."

Eltrys looked down for the first time as the Blackness truly faded from her sight. The mangled bodies of Invaders lay in bloody heaps around her,filled with the stabs and sweeps of her blade. She dropped the dripping sword and fell to her knees, eyes screwed shut and breathing heavy as she held her head in her hands. The Veteran took a moment to crouch beside her.

"Ever killed before?"

The answer was a barely whispered "Yes."

She looked up at him. "But it doesn't bother me. Never has."

The Veteran frowned, a strange expression that she couldn't make out. Was it horror, concern, anger?

"Don't live like that. Don't ever let it not bother you."

"I'm afraid I can't. There was never a proper life in them. They never laughed."

"The Chitauri?"

"Everyone."

From where Eltrys leaned against the ruined wall, she silently thanked anything that would listen that it was not the Blackness that now dimmed her vision. She was about to pass out from blood loss, most likely. But before the world blackened, she remembered one more thing. How she had betrayed the Heroes and assisted the Villain. She'd found him trapped under a broken beam after he'd been blasted off one of the Invader's flying machines. In time, he would have worked his way out, but Eltrys knew that the Famous Hero was approaching, and wouldn't be so kind.

As soon as he was freed, he knocked her to the ground in his inevitable anger. She had to laugh from her crippled position in the concrete.

"Ungrateful," she said with a grin.

"You were helping them not to long ago. What changed?"

"Oh, Loki. I don't want you to die. I want you to suffer!"

He frowned. She hadn't used his name in very long time. But his frown flipped quickly.

"I won't be the only one," he countered, holding out a hand to pull her from the concrete. He examined the horrible black marks that rubbed from her hands and onto his own. "Will I?"

Eltrys didn't reply, distracted by the arrival of the Famous Hero and what she thought must be an acidic stare behind his helmet once he registered the alliance between her and the Villain. He fired a blast towards the Villian but missed narrowly, destroying a chunk of the wall.

"Traitor," he labeled Eltrys, but when he tuned back from the Villain to look at her, she was gone.

Her disappearing act, however wasn't too effective, as the Monster soon got a hold of her and smashed her body against the side of a building along with a fistful of invaders. Eltrys plummeted to the ground, roughly five stories of falling before she met sidewalk. She lay there for a few seconds, breathing deeply before climbing out of the hole and brushing herself off. She faltered when pain shot through her leg. Upon inspection, she found a dark arrow buried within her thigh; apparently the Famous Hero had gotten word out she wasn't to be trusted. Eltrys looked upwards to see a dim figure on a distant rooftop. She could have sworn that the Archer saluted her. She frowned at the arrow and gritted her teeth as she drew it out in one swift, bloody motion. It had pierced through her armor and gone several inches deep. A well calculated arrow, she thought to herself. Placed so that it would kill a human from blood loss, but only just enough to cause a good deal of pain for someone else. A warning shot. Or so she thought, until she noticed the poison attached. It was meant to cripple.

Eltrys crawled carefully from the wreckage of the street and entered what appeared to be a souvenir shop. She challenged the smiling bobble heads with a glare, but they, of course, gave no response.

It wasn't until she collapsed against the counter that she realized how much the wound hurt. She almost blacked out from the first wave of crippling pain washed over her like fire. She held onto consciousness with a bitter gritting of teeth for a few struggling breaths before the Blackness took over.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thor's POV**

"Eltrys of Nithe, you are here to be tried for your crimes aga-"

"I have committed no crimes against Asgard!" she protested with a small sob of frustration. Thor watched quietly from his position behind Odin's throne, hands clasped and Mjolnir by his side. It occurred to him how exhausted Eltrys looked. Her armor was dented, though polished, and the ends of her dark red cloak fell in tattered ends around her knees. She looked to be on the verge of crying, but Thor knew that even if that was true, he would never see those tears.

"Silence!" Odin demanded. "You have been found to be disgraced and fallen from the standards of Asgard. You have no right to speak unless spoken to. Now, let me continue. It is true, by our laws, you say you have committed no crimes, which is another matter. We are here to discuss the offences against the realm of Midgard. These-"

Once again, Eltrys interrupted. "Then let me be tried by the Midgardian authorities!"

Thor stiffened. There was something wrong with that sentence, but what, he wasn't sure.

"You WILL show respect!" the king bellowed.

"I WILL NOT BE SILENT!" she cried furiously. "You have no right to try me!"

"As an Asgardian, you are under my rule, and you will face the consequences of your actions as determined by your king!"

"Oh, but we all know I'm not quite Asgardian, Your Highness, not really! I'm not even sure if I can be counted as human anymore, either."

"That is irrelevant! You are more of Asgard than Midgard, were raised Asgardian, and took an oath for Asgard. Even if you are to be counted partially human, this realm is a guardian of Midgard, and therefore you are STILL under my rule!"

"A guardian of Midgard? Did they ask for that? What gives you, oh mighty king, the right to decide the fates of other realms? Why is it that Asgard is the 'supreme ruler' of Yggdrasil?" she mocked bitterly. "Why is Asgard so important that it feels it must reach out and cast a shadow over others?"

"One more word, Eltrys Nithe, and I may likely add to your list of crimes. And it's already a very long list," Odin warned. She fell silent, but not without an angry glare.

"Now, without interruption, these are your crimes. You aided a fugitive and traitor of Asgard by hiding him from Midguard's warriors, these 'Avengers'. You helped the same prisoner escape from the Avengers, and proceeded to assist him in an attempt to conquer Midguard with the army called the Chitauri. And finally, you are responsible for the deaths of many Midgardians. Do you say these accusations to be true?"

"All true," she said, suddenly lighthearted, "Except the last one. The Avengers did their duty well. To my knowledge, only one Midgardian was killed, and I was not responsible for that death."

"Thor," Odin said, turning to his firstborn, "Does she speak truth?"

"Yes, father. The only death was Agent Coulson, who was murdered by Loki, as well as a man in the Midgardian country Germany."

"Under normal circumstances, these crimes would end in your execution, Eltrys. But it was promised to you long ago that a small amount of mercy would be given to you if you were to accomplish one task: to restore the soul of Baldr to him. I give you this sentence: You will remain in the dungeons for a period of one thousand years, if you can heal Baldr. If you cannot, once the period of one thousand years is finished, every day my son remains soulless will be another year you are a prisoner. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she replied with a cruel frown, "But know this, king of Asgard, if there was something I could do to reverse the damage upon Baldr, I would have done it years ago."

"Then you will rot in the dungeons of Asgard. Take her away."

Eltrys willingly followed the guards, not bothering to resist. She was no fool. It was then that Thor realized what had bothered him about the conversation. Eltrys had broken her habit of using alternate titles. As if coming to the same realization, she turned to look at Thor with a terrified expression. The room suddenly felt cold and empty as the door clicked shut behind her.

He felt no pity towards Eltrys. She deserved punishment, but somehow he was afraid for her, something he couldn't explain. And there was the curiosity. Could she actually cure Baldr? He did a quick calculation in his head. It had been nearly 800 years since he had spoken with his youngest brother. His thoughts were interrupted as the door opened once again, this time with a larger escort of guards marching Loki towards the Golden Throne.


	7. Chapter 7

Eltrys stared sourly at the shimmering golden wall that held her in. Confinement wasn't so bad, but it was very, very boring. One of the more friendly guards had told her that Loki was even provided with books to read. She didn't care if he was the prince, it wasn't fair treatment. At least she was around the corner from Loki's cell; she preferred not to see him gloat. She scowled and threw her small pillow at the wall.

"Eltrys."

She looked up to find the Warrior had appeared, not far from where the pillow had landed. He didn't look angry, but he didn't seem happy either.

"What do you need, _my lord_?"

The Warrior ignored the wry tone she spoke with.

"How did you get to Midguard? The Rainbow Bridge was destroyed."

"I was trapped on Vanaheim, as you know, until one day a sort of portal opened up and I decided 'Why not?'. I went through and found myself on Midguard."

"Is that a lie?"

"Yes."

He crossed his thick arms and studied her silently for several moments before disappearing again around the corner. She was surprised at how easy it was to get rid of him. Then again, she was also surprised he had bothered to visit at all. The future king of the Golden Realm surely had more pressing issues to deal with than Eltrys the Nithe.

Ella moaned inwardly. She hated the name Nithe. It was such a stupid name. She wasn't a villain, not to say she was an exemplary citizen, though. She thought back; it had all started with Baldr, the young, innocent, naive Baldr that thought he could run away. It was all his fault, really. He shouldn't have taken an interest in anything outside the palace at a young age. Ella lay back on her pillowless cot and closed her eyes to remember simpler days.

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"Ella! Where are you?" called the deep, husky voice. A young girl came skidding around the corner of the stone house, her feet bare and hair woven with stray flakes of straw. The big Asgardian man laughed at her state of appearance and bent over to pluck the straw from her hair. His laughter was rich and deep, and full of everything happy. His arms were thick and made for pulling a plow, and hair as blond as the sun; his daughter was small, willowy, and dark haired, but in the end, they had the same spirit.

"Oh, there you are, little darling. What a mess you are, indeed. Let's not tell your mother, shall we?"

The girl smiled at the thought and straightened with her hands clasped respectfully.

"What do you need, Papa?"

"I need you to go out to the fields, make sure I closed all the gates properly. There's a lot of wind and I think a few of them might have been blown open. You can get there a lot faster on that sheep of yours than I can."

The girl laughed. "Haynefr isn't a sheep, Papa. He's a pony."

The farmer crossed his arms. "Is that so? Forgive me, then. And tell him I'm terribly sorry I've been giving him sheep feed."

She giggled again. "I'll let him know."

Ella made her way to the stables, a skip in her step. She pried the heavy latch open and greeted Haynefr with a kiss on his soft black nose. The old pony stared at her in silence, perhaps too sleepy to reply. Ella struggled to lift the weighty saddle, but got it on his back eventually, and after a tightening of his bridle, she was off.

Her father's fields weren't huge, but they were big enough that a ride to the other end could take at least ten minutes on a slow mover like Haynefr, even at a canter. The tall, golden wheat brushed against her arms as she rode by, a pleasant tickling sensation that left her with a desire to harvest the wheat and eat warm, soft bread straight out of the oven. As her father had said, there was a lot of wind that created a ripple in the wheat and made her hold tighter to her ride. It wasn't long before she found the gate which, as predicted, was blowing freely in the wind, slamming constantly against a tree. Ella dismounted and tied Haynefr to a bush, not that she expected him to run.

Ella ran over to the gate and grabbed hold of the painted wood. She pushed with all her might, and with one last heave, brought it close to the fence and latched it tightly. For good measure, she wove a stout stick through the planks to hold it closed. She turned away and took a step before hearing a sharp ripping noise. She looked down and with a sigh, inspected the tear in her dress where the fabric had caught on a loose nail. At least it wasn't one of her good dresses. She had moved back to Haynefr, trying to untie the knot with numb fingers, when something soft and black came out of nowhere and blew against her face. She pulled it off, spluttering, and held it up for a better look. It was a thick coat, made of quality materials and decorated with precise embroidery along the edges.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Ella turned around to see a boy running towards her, arms outstretched to retrieve his coat. When he came closer, she could see he was close to tears. She silently handed it over to him, watching him hug it to his chest with an overly relieved expression.

"Calm down," Ella said, not sure if this boy was completely serious, "It's just a coat."

The boy looked horrified, his big brown eyes bigger than she thought was possible. "It's not just a coat," he said reverently, "It used to be my big brother's, but he gave it to me."

"Oh really? You must really like him."

He smiled proudly. "He's the crown prince, you know!"

Ella's eyes widened. "You're Thor's brother? That means you're Baldr, right? Umm..." Ella dropped into a clumsy curtsy. Baldr bowed back. "Why are you so far from the palace?" she asked.

"I'm running away."

"What? Why?"

Baldr stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked at a rock. "I don't want to be a prince. I don't like having to be all proper and talk to proper people. So I'm running away to become a fisherman!"

Ella held back a laugh. "Do you even know how to fish?"

"Well...I went fishing once with my brothers, but I think Loki made the fish come to me. He was just being nice."

Ella was quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to best explain to him that he couldn't run away. "You know...a lot of people would give a lot to even see the palace, much less live in it. I think you should appreciate that and not run away."

Baldr smiled. "You mean poor people like you?"

Ella stared at him. "I'm not poor!" she said indignantly.

"Then why is there a great big tear in your dress?"

"I ripped it trying to close the gate!" she huffed, crossing her arms defensively. She saw Baldr smiling at her and she blushed, realizing he had been messing with her, and she'd fallen straight for it.

"I don't care if you're a prince, you are such a boy!" Ella accused. "You really should go home and learn some manners."

He grinned and pulled on his brother's coat. "Maybe I'll take your advice. I'm sure I've given my mother enough of a scare that she'll get my message. But...it's a long way away."

"My father can take you. He has a horse back at the house. You can ride there with me on Haynefr."

"Is this your pony? I have one just like him, except she's brown, but I hope someday I'll have a big war horse like Loki does. Then I'll be a great warrior!"

Ella giggled. "Sure you will. Come on." She mounted Haynefr and held out a hand to help him up. The price settled himself behind her on the small saddle and Ella urged Haynefr fowards. He moved quickly despite himself, likely spurred on by the cold weather. When they reached the large stone house, Ella's father was outside, trying to round up the three dogs they owned. Ella slid from the saddle as Haynefr came to a stop, Baldr following. Her father straightened as they approached, a smile sweetening his face.

"Who's your friend, Ella?"

"Papa, this is Prince Baldr; he needs a ride back to the palace."

The big man bowed and Baldr accepted the gesture with a happy nod of his head. "I'll saddle my horse, then. Ella, you stay here and the prince can ride Haynefr." He thought for a moment. "How old are you, little master?"

"Nine, sir. Nearly ten."

"Oh! You're right about Ella's age, then. You're a little taller, though. I ought to lengthen those stirrups," he said, half to himself. He turned to Ella. "You, my darling, had better think real quick about a way to explain that tear in your dress and then go find your mother. She'll need your help with dinner."

"Yes, Papa," Ella replied. She handed Haynefr's reins to Baldr and gave him one last smile before going inside.

**lllllllllllll**

_FIFTEEN YEARS LATER, FEAST OF LITHSABLOT_

"Ooh! What if the prince is there?"

"Which one? There's about three."

"I mean Thor, of course! Ella, the other two are alright, but he's just...beautiful."

Ella looked at her friend with disgusted pity. She sighed. "Eony, you know he's the crown prince, right? As in, too busy to attend a feast in the country?"

Ella's realism didn't waver Eony's star-struck resolve to meet the crown prince. "I can dream, can't I?"

"Yeah, maybe that's the reason you still haven't gotten married."

"Neither have you, Ella. Why's that? Are you in looove?"

"No! Of course not. I just think that so many of the men around here aren't what I want. Country bumpkins, every one."

"That's why you set your gaze on the royal palace!" Eony replied with a playful shove. Ella grinned and stood.

"Anyway, I need to go get ready. My mother would never let me go anywhere public in this," she said, gesturing to her simple brown work clothes and dirty field boots. "Can't say I blame her."

"Alright, me too. My sisters are making cakes; I'm sure they'd appreciate my help. Wait, hey, are you and your mother still..."

Ella shrugged. "She still thinks I'll never amount to anything, and likely always will, but I'll prove her wrong. I have a plan."

"Really? You have a plan?"

"...No. But I'll think of something."

Eony laughed one more time before standing and leaving Ella to herself. She ran back to the large stone house her family still occupied and ducked upstairs, trying to avoid her mother's critical gaze. Once in her sizable bedroom, she quickly stripped and filled a basin with water to rinse off the lingering dust and dirt. The water was shockingly cold, but it worked. Teeth chattering from the icy water, she hurriedly slipped on the dress her mother had laid over the back of a chair. It was a fairly simple affair, composed of lightweight steely gray fabric belted about the middle with a polished bronze belt. She buckled on her leather boots and headed back downstairs so her mother could braid her dark hair. Soon she was running out the door with a long, seven-strand braid hanging down her back that was so complicated in the making that she thought she'd never understand it.

It didn't take long to reach the wide open field where the market was usually held. Today it was cleared, except for the long feast tables along the sides piled high with food to celebrate Lithasblot, the Midsummer festival. But before they could eat, there would be dancing. Ella didn't enjoy the dances, but she wasn't about to complain. She certainly preferred it to working in the boiling hot wheat fields.

She found Eony and stood by her, watching patiently as an official climbed on the small, quickly erected stage, followed by a young man dressed in blue. The official ran through the yearly repeated speech, carefully detailing the purpose of this celebrated time and what it should mean to all their young souls. Then as the speech ended, the man smiled and gestured to his companion on the stage, introducing him as Prince Baldr Odinson, who had graciously agreed to come to the country and join the festivities. Baldr waved at the crowd with an bright smile and shuffled his feet as the official explained to his audience that they should feel honored and all treat the prince with the respect due him. He then clapped his hands and ordered them to line up, men on one side and women on the other. The single file line stretched across the entire field and even turned inward at the corners as young people squeezed in. They were told to move the two lines closer, and whoever was straight across would be their partner.

Ella wasn't concentrating on who she would be paired with, but instead enjoying Eony's dismay at her lack of a royal partner. In fact, Eony's partner looked rather dusty. It wasn't until she was quite close that Ella finally turned to learn who she would be dancing with. Her smile faded slightly as she came face to face with Baldr. Ella bit her lip, not sure if she had amazing or absolutely awful luck.

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Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to review!


	8. Chapter 8

"Uhm...hello," Ella said with a hurried curtsy.

"Don't," Baldr replied with an awkward smile. He didn't seem to be enjoying all the attention, in fact he looked rather uncomfortable.

"Don't what?"

"Don't...bow. Or give me a title. I hate titles. They're worthless, really."

"Sorry, my lord." Ella bit her tongue and apologized. "It's a reflex, I think."

Baldr laughed a little as the dance begun. It was a simple, whirly-twirly dance that made circles in the grass and was only meant to burn some of the energy of the youth before the real festivities started.

"What's your name?" Baldr asked as soon as he faced her again.

"Eltrys."

"Eltrys...Have we met? You seem familiar."

"Yes, a very long time ago. You were running away."

"I remember. Ella. You gave me some advice."

"And I see you followed it."

"There are times I regret it, but yes, I listened. I suppose I should thank you."

"There's no need for that. It didn't cost me anything. But, I'll give you another pearl of wisdom."

"What might that be?"

"Smile more, prince. It makes for happier subjects."

Baldr complied, and they said no more until the dancing ceased. Ella drifted away to look for Eony, who was still wrinkling her nose at the farm boy she had danced with. Together they sought out two empty seats at the end of the feast tables. There were no more announcements, and they ate as soon as they reached their plates. All the food she recognized, as most of it had been grown and prepared in the country side. If she thought long enough, she could likely name the farmer that provided the roast pig not far away, or the widow who had spent days laboring over her table to roll the bread laid out in baskets. But she didn't. She instead listened to Eony's chatter and indignant replies as the young man she sat next to teased her cheerfully. It was a welcome distraction from the growing ache in her feet. Ella only looked up once across the field to where Baldr was seated. It was hard to tell from such a distance, but she could have sworn he grinned at her. She quickly directed her attention back to Eony. Night fell, and the fields slowly decreased in population, but somehow increased in noise. Those who were drunk got drunker, and small squabbles broke out among the most intoxicated of them. It was around the time Eony started to giggle at the young man who had been teasing her, a smaller jug of ale sloshing in her hands, that Ella decided to leave. She was tired, the opposite of hungry, and had a little to drink herself. It was quite dark, and halfway down the road she found herself tripping over a tree root. But instead of hitting the hard ground, she felt something soft and warm. Ella looked up into the face of the stranger who had caught her, an unknown face she didn't recognize.

"Are you Ella?" the stranger asked quietly.

She nodded sleepily into his arm. She suddenly felt exhausted, as if she had run miles.

"I was asked to give this to you, I didn't see who from."

Ella heard a crinkle of parchment as the stranger slipped a folded note into her hand.

"Thanks," she murmured. The man helped her stand and guided her along the road, a two minute walk before she closed the door of the stone house behind her with another thank you and a tired smile. She trudged up the stairs, careful not to wake her father who was undoubtedly sleeping by now, and clumsily slipped off her boots. She sat on the large bed and squinted at the note in the low light and finally made out:

_'I want to hear some more advice. Tomorrow at noon, at the gate in the fields. -Baldr'_

Ella fell asleep before she registered what she read.

...

Eltrys woke with a start from the sleep she hadn't realize she had been taking. She sat up and tried to dispel the image of Baldr from her mind, but he stuck stubbornly and wouldn't leave. She couldn't help hearing his voice shouting over the winter winds in her memory, five months after the Midsummer Festival.

_Come to the palace._

She glared through the wall, at the guards, at the other prisoners, applying all her strength to push him out of her memory.

_Follow me home._

The swirling pattern on the golden wall made her nauseous. She concentrated on the sickness, but all it gained her was a pool of black vomit and a darkening in her eyes. The dungeons were dim, the floor was white, and the confining wall the color of sun-lit dust. She leaned against it and felt an unpleasant tingle in her fingers. Eltrys begged the memory of Baldr to leave her thoughts. She vaguely saw a tall figure watching her on the other side of her prison.

_I love you, Ella._

"Don't," she whispered to the wall.

The Blackness lurked at the edge of her vision, but she refused to let it take over, despite the relief it would bring from the past.

_Fine._

Suddenly the memory faded, and the throbbing in her head stopped. Eltrys blinked a few times before standing to face her visitor. She didn't recognize his face, but the quiet voice he spoke with rang bells in the memory that she had just fought to bury. They were heavy bells, with a dark booming chime that resonated through her.

"What do you want?" she demanded, though there was no strength behind her words.

"I only have one request for you, Nithe. In the coming battle, do not die."

It wasn't a request, as he had said. It was an order. Eltrys said nothing, only stared at him with an exhausted defiance. He returned her gaze for a moment before retreating into the shadows. Once he was gone, Ella seated herself on the floor and tried to fight sleep, but was once again defeated.

...

Ella couldn't help but stare at the palace gates as they rode in, despite her attempts to not appear a starry-eyed little girl from the country side. She had only seen the town once or twice before, by her father's side with a cart full of wheat. She caught herself staring and quickly looked away before Baldr could give her that frustratingly magnetic smile that she refused to fall in love with. Unfortunately, it was the only way to prove her mother wrong. To show she was worth something.

A path was cleared for the returning prince and Ella. They had ridden alone with their horses and a pack horse. There wasn't much to carry, but Baldr had wanted to return as quickly as possible to the palace, and a third horse would help.

The streets were white with snow pushed aside by workers every morning. The winter had been exceptionally hard, but the people were not hungry, with nothing to distract them from their curiosity. Ella had raised her hood over her dark hair, which meant that the townspeople could not see her face and were left to wondering who the youngest prince's mysterious companion was. The crowd quickly thinned as they approached the palace, the guards refusing to let the common folk enter.

They dismounted in the courtyard and a young stable boy led the horses away. Ella watched as the tall grey horse that had replaced Haynefr grew smaller as the boy crossed the monstrous yard and turned a corner. She moved to stand next to Baldr, who was speaking with a well-dressed servant. He turned to her apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Ella, but I have to leave you for the moment. I've been summoned to the throne room. Erland will guide you to your chambers."

Ella nodded without turning to look at him. He placed a hand on her shoulder with a smile, and then he was gone. Erland bowed slightly to Ella, his wrinkled face holding no emotion she could read. He led her through doors, up stairs, around corners, through corridors, before arriving at a wooden door that opened into a large cavern of a room, edged with a two-story balcony that ran along the whole room. Desks and shelves populated the room, crammed with all sorts of objects.

"The library," explained Erland shortly. Ella frowned. Normally a library only held books, but this place was filled with artifacts, scrolls, jars, and other things besides books.

"This way, my lady," called Erland. Ella followed, but not with a second glance into the shadows. Someone was watching her. Someone tall, with dark hair and a book in hand. She suddenly felt cold and hurried to follow Erland.

Her chamber was small, but that was alright, as it was more finely decorated than anything she'd ever seen. Thick, soft, rich brown fur lay across the bed carved of ebony; beautifully woven rugs warming the stone floor, and a gentle golden light that lit up the tiniest details. Gold worked into wood, silver threads sparkling on tapestries, and tiny mirrors embedded into stone.

There was a loud click that jolted her from her trance. Ella turned and saw that Erland had left her. She undid the clasp on her cloak and let it fall to the floor in a green heap. She stepped over the fabric and approached a set of thin wooden doors with light leaking in between. She stretched her leather-gloved fingers around the handles and pulled them open together to reveal a balcony. She could see into the gardens and just past the high palace walls. Evidently she was on the far western end of the Golden Palace. A thought to keep in mind. The sun was setting, a brilliant display of rich reds, golds, oranges, and purples. It lit up the metallic folds and waves of the palace walls in a thrilling way that captured Ella and held her close. She was so enthralled watching the sun sink into Asgard's oceans that the knock on the door made her jump. She cursed herself for twice becoming so distracted in one day and called out to the knocker. The reply came cheerfully, a young woman's voice.

"M'lady, It's nearly time for supper, I've been sent to help you clean off the road."

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**_A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!_**


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